The Last Great Innocent
by Dru619
Summary: Post-IWTB. Mulder and Scully discover a young Indian woman, hurt and in need of help.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, everyone!

I've been out of practice for quite a while. Almost a year I want to say! This is the first multi-parter that I've attempted in aaaages so patience is very much appreciated :)

This story takes place post-IWTB. Mulder and Scully aren't mine and I'm even borrowing the character of Johnna from a play I saw at the beginning of the month and very much loved (August: Osage County. Anyone else?)

Enjoy!

-Dru

* * *

October.

Dana Scully remembered the month as October because the hospital was already becoming overwhelmed with people paranoid about sicknesses they knew were imminent. She remembered it as being close to the end of the month because Mulder had already been on the search for a perfect pumpkin and would sometimes wrangle her into a search for crazy stencils online. It made her smile to know that they still had the ability to let go and have a little childish fun every now and then, even after every heartbreaking thing they had been through together. Even though both of them still had a tendency to slip into crushing depressions that resulted in days feeling trapped and drained of the emotional enthusiasm they had once spoken to each other with.

But on that particular night she had remembered them being on a stretch of what she considered good days. The weather was being particularly merciful on them and snow had yet to grace the ground with its chilling presence. Mulder often times had dinner ready for her when she came through the front door, most nights at a surprisingly reasonable hour. They would sit together, Scully often being inspired to bring her chair around to his side of the table as they sat with their hands clasped under the oak, relieving those timid early days.

That night, Mulder had helped her do the dishes, then slunk warm arms around her middle from behind. Resting his chin on her shoulder, Scully smiled.

"What's on the agenda for tonight, Agent Mulder?" she grinned, goose bumps shooting down her spine as he nuzzled into her neck.

"Oooo," he purred near her ear. "So its Agent Mulder tonight is it _Agent_ Scully?" The way he emphasized the agent in front of her name evoked a soft flurry of giggles from her lips. She turned to face him, pressing her lips, maybe a little too roughly, against his. The fluorescence of the lights above their kitchen sink mixed in with his familiarly intoxicating scent made Scully feel a little weak.

"Hey," he lulled softly as they pulled away, him bending to rest his forehead against hers. "Let me lock up first."

Mulder had grown increasingly paranoid in the past few weeks. One of the neurosurgeons that worked alongside Scully in the hospital had been mugged out in the parking lot, which had shaken up the relatively quiet and secluded area. It wasn't as if Mulder and Scully had ever gone to lengths to not protect themselves, but ever since they had made peace with the FBI, going a night without locking the front door didn't ever prove to be worrisome. Even though she didn't see reason to worry with Mulder as her very real protection, Scully was touched that he gave into the precautions that he did. Even if that did mean a nightly perimeter check of the house.

"Aw," Scully pouted, tugging at his belt loops. She nuzzled under his chin. "Let me lock the front door?"

Mulder grinned sheepishly. The things she still did to him were amazing.

"Fine. Ill go out the back. Don't open the door though. Okay?"

Scully rolled her eyes.

"You do realize I am a trained agent of the FBI dont you?"

_"Were_ a trained agent of the FBI."

"Go!" Scully pushed him towards the back door. As it closed with a soft click, she padded out into the living room and turned the silver lock on their front door. The sound was promptly followed by a startled cry, something that resembled the sound of a wounded animal. Her overwhelming instinct to help the hurt, one of the reasons she had become a doctor, forced her to instinctively reverse the lock and fling open the door. She gasped.

Sitting in the dim, orange glow of their porch light was a young woman, early twenties and obviously in pain. Her thick black hair hung all the way at her middle, her dark eyes stunningly wide and beautiful against her pale face. As Scully took a step out on to the porch, the woman scrambled to her feet, keeping her left arm clutched close to her body.

"Scully," she heard a deep growl out in the darkness of the yard, just off the porch. "Go back inside." Scully watched the woman involuntarily shudder at the dark tone of Mulder's voice. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Whats your name?" Scully whispered, her eyes never leaving the small, scared figure in front of her. She could feel Mulder quickly ascend the porch steps.

"Johnna," her voice came out very dark and rough sounding, almost not fitting of the angelic sweetness of her face. As Mulder came into her line of vision, Johnna crumpled at Scully's feet.

Her body-wracking sobs were the only things piercing their otherwise serene night.


	2. Chapter 2

Just as a side note, I don't know too much about the Kiowa culture but I do love the way it sounds :) haha! and it seemed like it would work for Johnna. I don't know how big of a part of the story it will be but going off my knowledge of the subject, probably very little.

Enjoy!

-Dru

* * *

Scully could feel her stomach clench and burn thinking about the doll Mulder had given her, what seemed like decades, earlier. The thickness of her carefully braided hair. The heavy smell of dust and cinnamon that seemed to engulf her when she clutched it to her chest. Looking at the scared woman now, sitting on the couch noticeably anxious and upset, Scully could only think of one thing and it was that doll. Mulder pushed a hot mug of tea into Johnna's hands. She took it, gratefully, carefully making sure she avoided eye contact with him at all costs.

"What," Scully took a minute to clear her throat. "What brings you out here, Johnna?" The woman hadn't said anything since she had blurted out her name a few minutes earlier on the front porch. Scully was beginning to wonder if that was all she knew how to say. She sat quietly across from Johnna, in a chair on the opposite side of their coffee table. Littered across the top were a collection of Mulder's newspapers, a few old medical charts, and a coffee cup from some morning previous. Scully could feel Mulder sit behind her in a chair he had pulled out from the kitchen. Johnna stared into the mug of tea, still favoring her left arm which Scully mentally noted to look at later.

"Doctor Scully," Johnna started in the same unfitting, dark voice as before. "My brother died at your hospital." Only then did Johnna look up, those stunning eyes of deep brown locking with Scully's. Her stomach clenched again, tightly, painfully. She forced herself to swallow.

"I'm sorry," she managed to say quietly, all the while searching the deepest corners of her memory. She feared pushing Johnna for more information; all her brain was giving her was a smattering of the last 48 or so hours. But the young woman had begun to shake again, setting her coffee mug down on the table.

"What nationality are you?" Mulder's voice sounded gruff, dry from lack of speaking. Scully was internally rolling her eyes but also being silently thankful that Mulder had acknowledged Johnna with words. Johnna, whose hands were clasped so tight together that her knuckles were almost a clear white, regarded Mulder for the first time.

"Indian, sir," Johnna answered, her head held slightly higher now. "Kiowa. Not full, obviously. My brother and I have been Americanized for almost our whole lives." The mention of her brother quickly silenced her again. A fresh wave of tears flooded her cheeks as she looked back up to Scully.

"He had an in…in…," Johnna stumbled painfully over the words. "An in…operable brain tumor." She dissolved into sobs, covering her face with her hands as her body, once again, began to tremble under the crushing weight of her emotional distress. Scully got up and timidly sat next to Johnna, rubbing her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her to any extent that she could. Johnna tensed but began to calm again, rubbing anxiously at her eyes to rid them of the tears that continued to brim and spill over. Scully felt strangely at ease with this Indian woman. She had such a calming energy about her, even though she was so upset. And Scully definitely was not one to entertain notions about 'energies' and 'airs' about people.

"How did you find me here?" Scully asked, keeping her voice low, almost as if she spoke too loudly the oddly calm ambiance of the room would be shattered. Johnna looked up at Scully, her face full of shame.

"I followed you home one night. I'm so sorry. I wasn't ever going to contact you but…," Johnna froze, clutching her hands together again and moving slightly away from Scully. "But then I hurt my arm. I…my brothers gone and…" She couldn't find a way to finish her statement. Without knowing why, Scully reached for her hand.

"I understand." And she didn't even realize that she did until the words had left her mouth. Mulder, who hadn't spoken since asking Johnna about her nationality, continued to sit silently near the couch. Scully all of a sudden realized that Johnna was technically an intruder on their property and she couldn't help but wonder if Mulder felt like his privacy was being violated. Scully unwittingly silenced those thoughts.

"You can stay here, Johnna. If you don't mind the couch…we can set it up for you…,"

"No," Johnna was quick to insist, Scully noticing that she winced as she pulled her arm into her lap. "I wouldn't want to...,"

"Impose?" Mulder piped up. "I mean you did come all the way down here, you might as well crash on our couch for a night or two." Scully wasn't sure if she was to regard his tone as sarcastic or not but seeing the way Johnna bowed her head and quickly picked the coffee cup back up to busy her hands, she knew how she had taken it. All of a sudden, the single desk lamp burning in the corner of the room seemed too overbearing. Something strange, but equally as strong as any feeling she was ever absolutely sure about, came over Scully. She needed to protect Johnna.

What she didn't know was that the man sitting across from her in that dim lamp light was feeling the same strange feelings.

They would have to protect this stranger who had found her way to their doorstep.


End file.
